


Margin of Error

by badomens444, Suspicious_Popsicle



Series: Trouble in a Black Hoodie [5]
Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluri, M/M, Schrodinger's stripper, occupation bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 04:44:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badomens444/pseuds/badomens444, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suspicious_Popsicle/pseuds/Suspicious_Popsicle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay, so the core of the story was badomens' idea, but I'm the one who ended up writing the story. However, as I can't be trusted with anything, we decided to have her put together an alternate ending that stays true to her original plot point. This story is how I ended Trouble in a Black Hoodie, and "Residual Plot" will be badomens' ending for the set. Enjoy! =D</p>
<p>Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Margin of Error

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so the core of the story was badomens' idea, but I'm the one who ended up writing the story. However, as I can't be trusted with anything, we decided to have her put together an alternate ending that stays true to her original plot point. This story is how I ended Trouble in a Black Hoodie, and "Residual Plot" will be badomens' ending for the set. Enjoy! =D
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

Cell phone in hand, Flynn stood outside Yuri’s door Monday morning and hesitated with his finger over the call button. He hadn’t seen or heard from Yuri since they’d parted on Saturday. His calls and texts had gone unanswered. Yuri was obviously still angry—hell, _Flynn_ was still angry. His jaw still ached from that punch and it popped funny when he yawned.

He could have just left Yuri to stew, could have broken things off and found himself a relationship with someone less prone to going right off the deep end at the slightest provocation. However, as often as he went over his objections, he couldn’t bring himself to end things between them. There was this feeling of exciting potential between them that made him understand for the first time in his life what people meant when they talked of a couple having great chemistry. Verbal sparring or physical, Yuri rose to the challenge Flynn presented and challenged him, in turn. Beneath his laid back exterior, Yuri was a passionate person, and Flynn loved that about him. Sure, he wasn’t happy about the way that passion had erupted but he could understand where he’d been coming from. Yuri took pride in his strength, Flynn knew that. Looking back, he could admit that his argument had been poorly made. It didn’t excuse Yuri’s reaction, and it didn’t excuse the way he’d been giving Flynn the silent treatment for two days, but it made his anger understandable.

Just the anger, not the actions. Yuri owed him an apology, no doubt about that. While he was certain that they had something worthwhile beginning between them, he wanted to see just how Yuri was going to handle patching things up after this fight. If he couldn’t admit that he’d been in the wrong, well….

Well, they’d deal with that if it happened. Steeling his resolve, he called Yuri.

Much to his surprise, the phone picked up immediately. Rather than the sleepy grumble he would have expected, however, Yuri’s voice came deceptively breezy through the speaker.

“Hey, what do you know? I made it here safe and sound, all by myself. See you in class.” The line went dead.

Flynn sighed. All right, maybe he deserved _that_ , but not everything else. He’d been concerned for Yuri’s safety and, though he could admit he hadn’t expressed that concern in a particularly diplomatic fashion, Yuri’s childish response had been entirely out of proportion. He scowled at his phone, shoved it back into his pocket, and went downstairs to wait for the bus.

\-----------------

Yuri didn’t look at him once during class. Flynn knew this because of how often he glanced over to check. Statistically, if Yuri were sneaking glances at him as well, they should have caught each other at it. It put him in mind of the first day he’d really been aware of Yuri over in his seat by the door. Back then, though, there hadn’t been this awkward tension between them, and Yuri had eventually acknowledged his presence.

As soon as they were dismissed at the end of the period, Yuri was up and out the door. Still irritated by his attitude and not wanting to bring their fight out into the open, Flynn didn’t bother hurrying after him. He was quite surprised, then, when he stepped out into the hall to find Yuri loitering just next to the door, apparently waiting for him.

They walked in silence to the coffee shop. He kept expecting Yuri to speak up and offer an apology or make some cutting remark, but none came. He fell behind as Yuri took the stairs at his usual jog, and hung back while he ordered. When Yuri turned around with two drinks and headed straight for an empty table, Flynn followed. It was going to take more than a coffee to smooth things over between them.

Yuri slid the steaming cup across the table. Not sure what message accepting it would send, Flynn didn’t touch it. He waited for Yuri to break the silence.

“How’s your jaw?” The question was posed in the same offhand tone he used to ask about classes he’d missed. If there was any concern in him, it didn’t show. He seemed to be only asking out of polite interest or idle curiosity.

“Been better.”

“Heh. Guess so. I wasn’t really in the right frame of mind to be pulling punches.” He smiled faintly, but Flynn wasn’t about to make light of it and the expression faded out as quickly as it had appeared. Rather than make another conversational overture, Yuri sipped at his coffee concoction. It seemed it would be up to Flynn to get their talk started.

“About what happened. I know you can handle yourself in a fight. I just meant that most people aren’t going to know that by looking at you.”

Staring somewhere off to the side, Yuri set his drink aside and rubbed the back of his neck. A little frown tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know. I shouldn’t have hit you. Sorry about ignoring your calls. Except for that one where you said I was acting like a five-year-old. I’m not sorry I ignored that one.”

Waiting until he glanced up, Flynn caught and held Yuri’s gaze. “I was worried about you.”

Again, he looked away. His frown became a grimace. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he muttered.

He didn’t really think he could help it, though he wasn’t about to admit that out loud. “Don’t you think it just makes more sense to discourage trouble before it starts, rather than having to defend yourself?”

“I think you should drink your coffee.”

“Two people are less likely—”

“I’m not telling you where I work. I don’t want you coming down thinking you have to look after me.” He took a swig of his drink and turned sideways in his chair. “You’re gonna sign up for geology next semester, right?”

Flynn sighed. Fine. If that was how Yuri wanted to play it, he would just figure it out for himself.

\------------

Wednesday morning saw Flynn standing once more outside the door to Yuri’s apartment. He wouldn’t have come after last time, particularly with so much they had yet to talk about, but as they’d parted ways on Tuesday, Yuri had looked at him and asked if he’d see him in the morning. There had been something about the way he’d cocked his head to the side or the way his voice had contained an odd mix of hesitancy and hopefulness that made Flynn relent. Yuri wanted to see him. He wanted to see Yuri. The rest could get sorted out later.

He knocked tentatively. He’d been told Judy would be expecting him, but it wasn’t as if he was friends with Yuri’s roommate. She let him in with a smile, though, while an alarm clock was sounding from down the hall.

“Glad you’re here. If you wouldn’t mind waking him up so that he’ll turn off that alarm of his…?”

Automatically, he started for Yuri’s room, but a thought held him back. He wasn’t making any progress about Yuri’s job as far as trying to talk to _him_ went. However, maybe if he asked Judy he could at least get the name of the place and go have a look. Just a look. He might stick around to walk Yuri home if it was in a particularly bad part of town, but for his own peace of mind, it would be good to know that his boyfriend wasn’t in nightly danger of being attacked on the street. He was just worried.

And curious, that licentious part of his mind put in. Definitely interested to see what sort of routine Yuri would have…because there _would be_ a routine, probably several, and all with him in something considerably more eye-catching than that coverall black hoodie.

He tried to push the thoughts away, wishing he could do the same with the blood he felt coloring his cheeks. Standing before Judy just inside the door, he felt suddenly incredibly awkward and burdened with the need to know.

“Do you…ah…. Yuri hasn’t told me where exactly it is that he works. I was wondering, if you wouldn’t mind…?”

She studied him for a moment, one hand against her cheek, as if wondering what to do with him.

“He hasn’t told you? What a thing to keep secret.”

“No, um, I know _what_ he does.” It was entirely too warm beneath the weight of her stare and he wished he could shed his letterman jacket. “I just don’t know the name of the…bar.”

She smiled at him and turned away, taking up a seat on one end of the couch. “Sorry. If he hasn’t told you, it really isn’t my place to do so.”

“Please. He told me how he hurt his hand. I just—” The sound of the alarm shut off briefly with a clatter. Yuri had apparently woken up enough to throw something at it. Quietly, Flynn hurried to finish. “I just want to be sure he’s okay.”

Her smile got a bit wider, but her response remained disappointing. “You’re sweet. Go on. You’d better be sure he’s actually getting ready.”

Defeated, Flynn left her there and made his way to Yuri’s room. The door was open a crack, so he let himself in, stepping carefully through the clutter.

Yuri was not a composed sleeper. He lay sprawled on his back in a tank and sweats, one leg hanging off the bed, the sheets twisted around him and his hair fanned out around his head in a dark tangle. For a moment, Flynn stood over him, caught between concern and anger and the impulse to crawl on top of him and kiss every last inch of exposed skin. He compromised with an affectionate caress of his cheek, smiling as Yuri nuzzled into his hand, before he ripped the covers away mercilessly.

“Time to get up.”

Groaning softly, Yuri didn’t even bother to open his eyes. Raising one hand lazily, he tapped his lips, a request for a kiss rather than a demand for silence. Flynn fell for it. He leaned down and, as soon as their lips met, Yuri’s arms were around him, yanking him down. Flynn toppled onto the bed, right on top of Yuri who gasped at the impact, then squirmed until he was comfortable, snuggling as much into Flynn as the nest of his bed. There was a smile on his face as he sighed happily.

“Nothing going on in class today, right?”

How did he not know what effect he had on Flynn? His sleep-roughed voice, the warmth of him held close, even his scent all combined to drive rationality to the deepest recesses of Flynn’s mind. He ducked his head to kiss beneath Yuri’s jaw.

“No. Just lecture.”

Beneath him, Yuri stretched, arching his back, pushing their bodies closer. His hands slipped beneath the padded weight of Flynn’s letterman, plucking ineffectively at his tucked in shirt. Though deprived of skin-to-skin contact, Flynn still felt little thrills pass through him from those searching touches. He nipped lightly at Yuri’s neck, just below his ear, and felt the shiver that passed all the way through him.

“We should skip,” Yuri mumbled. “Gonna be late anyway.”

He ground against Flynn, making it clear that an issue had been raised that would need to be attended to before leaving. He shifted again, pressing just so, and Flynn felt a jolt straight down his spine. He threw his head back with a gasp but, before he could sink back into Yuri’s embrace, he caught sight of something on the windowsill over the bed.

It was a business card, mostly black, with two back-to-back silhouettes in spotlight: one male, one female, both wearing bunny ears. Before he could think about it, consider the action and its ramifications, Flynn snatched up the card, tucking it swiftly up his sleeve. His heart was hammering, more from the thought of how angry Yuri was going to be with him if he’d noticed than from the excitement he’d been building up a moment before. Sitting back on his knees, he looked down on Yuri spread out beneath him, clinging to him still in his waking desire.

“We need to get going,” Flynn said. His voice was mostly steady. He was breathing a little heavy, but that wasn’t any big surprise.

Yuri curled up on his side, moaning petulantly, but he hauled himself up and slogged to the bathroom. He hadn’t noticed Flynn’s theft.

Once he was sure Yuri wouldn’t catch him, Flynn slid the card free of his sleeve to take a closer look. The simple white letters above the phone number read: “The Bunny Guild.” Hurriedly, he pulled out his wallet and slipped the card inside. He knew for sure that Yuri was working Friday night. It wouldn’t be difficult to go down and check the place out. He would just take a look, just make sure it wasn’t a neighborhood where walking alone at night was a big no-no. He just wanted to be sure that Yuri was safe. That was all.

His traitorous id spent the rest of the day feeding him suggestive mental images of what, exactly, Yuri’s job might entail.

\-----------------

It was eleven o’clock on Friday night and the city was steeped in sepia, a trick of the yellowing streetlights that shone in place of the sun. Squint hard enough, and the streets were transformed into an old photograph. Neon signs added patches of garish color that destroyed the illusion, and it was those signs that Flynn’s attention alighted on as he walked. He checked the directions on his phone again, though he knew he wasn’t lost. He ought to be coming up on the building any moment.

Across the street, he spotted his goal. A neon blue outline of the bunny boy silhouette from the business card he’d found blinked on and off, alternating with a pink bunny girl. Directly beneath the sign was a small black awning bearing the club’s name over a tinted glass door manned by a bored-looking bouncer. Flynn stopped and pretended to be checking something on his phone as he watched the entrance. Every now and again, people—men and women—would walk up to the door, present ID, and be allowed in. For the most part, they didn’t look like the drunken degenerates Flynn’s imagination had populated Yuri’s place of work with. The street itself wasn’t particularly run down, and there was a decent enough amount of foot traffic to suggest that it was a reasonably safe area. Unsure of what he ought to do next, he loitered there, watching.

He’d told himself that all he meant to do was make sure Yuri wasn’t stuck working someplace dangerous. That was supposed to be his only purpose. He had only meant to check out the area—very quickly—then go back home and let Yuri have his privacy. Most of his privacy. What he wasn’t giving away to strangers from the stage inside the club.

Flynn stamped down on that thought. Yuri’s job was only any of his business as far as concern for his safety went. That was his only worry. If he’d thought Yuri was the type to cheat, he wouldn’t have begun dating him in the first place.

But what constituted cheating? There wasn’t supposed to be any touching allowed in places like this, but what about tempting, showing off? Did any of that count as cheating? He couldn’t help but think of the desirous eyes of strangers trained on Yuri’s body as he bared himself to them. Why had he chosen a job like that? Did he enjoy it?

It wouldn’t hurt to take a peek, right? If he stayed to the back, Yuri would never even know he’d been there. He could just slip in, take a quick look, and leave.

He shouldn’t. He _really_ shouldn’t, and he knew it. It wasn’t about whether he trusted Yuri or not, it was about whether his curiosity would get the better of him in the face of Yuri’s express wishes that Flynn not show up where he worked.

But…if he didn’t bother Yuri, if he just stuck his head in for a few minutes and took a look around and left without anyone the wiser, what would be the harm? Yuri hadn’t ever actually apologized for sucker punching him. This would make them even.

Rationalizing all the way and hating himself a little for it even as he knew that he wouldn’t be able to leave without a quick glance inside, Flynn hurried across the road. He presented his ID, unable to even look the bouncer in the eye as the man stamped his hand. He looked at the little bunny-shaped ink mark as he entered, turning its meaning over in his mind. Too young to drink, but not too young to watch people undress before a crowd of strangers. Not too young to be one of those strippers. He and Yuri were the same age. It was a strange and uncomfortable thought just then and he pushed it away as he emerged from the long, black paneled hallway, past the ATMs stocked with two-dollar bills, and into the club proper.

The volume of the music had been steadily rising as he walked and now felt nearly strong enough to compel the rhythm of his heart to follow along to its beat. No wonder Yuri’s alarm clock couldn’t wake him. He was probably half deaf from working in such a racket.

A bar stretched along the back of the room, black like the walls and floor and ceiling. The counter was lit from beneath by strips of pink and blue neon. Glass shelves mounted in front of mirror panels glowed in those same colors, flooded with light from LEDs as the white fluorescents from above lit up their sparkling contents. The whole area behind the bar was a shining oasis of glass and light amid darkness, crowded with people and facing the real focus of the club: the stage.

The Bunny Guild catered to a wider target audience than Flynn would have expected from a strip club. The trunk of its ‘T’ shaped stage that extended out into the middle of the tables was twice as wide as either side of the top, and divided down the middle with mirrors suspended from the ceiling. One side was done up in pink, from the lights and tabletops to the glittering curtain that hid the far wall. The other side was decorated in blue. Two strippers danced and strutted and teased to the beat of the music, one male, one female, each on his or her own side, with his or her own audience. Flashes of color and movement could be seen between the mirrors, but, for the most part, the club was divided and to each his—or her—own.

Yuri wasn’t on stage. Flynn wondered if he’d missed him, if he would come up in the rotation soon or again or at all. He’d only meant to come into the club for a minute, but he found himself gravitating to the bar, and he snagged a stool as soon as one became available. Every so often, his eyes strayed helplessly back to the blue-lit stage. It would be strange if he left too soon. The bouncer might take notice, might mention something about it where Yuri could hear. Better to stay for just a little while. If Yuri came on, he would leave. Right after he’d seen that everything was okay.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Hearing Yuri’s voice practically in his ear nearly caused Flynn to jolt out of his seat. He spun around, ready to defend himself despite knowing that there was no excuse for him to be inside the club. His voice failed him as he took in Yuri clad, as usual, all in black: black dress shirt, black vest…and a pair of black bunny ears sitting atop his head.

Yuri did not look happy. “What are you staring—? Oh, for—!” He reached to pull off the ears, thought the better of it, and let his hand fall back to his hip. His face looked pinker than usual, and Flynn was pretty sure it wasn’t because of the lighting. “I told you not to come here.”

“You’re a _bartender_?” Obvious enough, but the question was all he could manage. The part of his mind that had been tantalizing him for weeks was stunned into silence.

“Yeah, I’m a bartender. What did you think I—?” He stopped short, his mouth hanging open a moment before snapping shut and curling into a smirk as he realized _exactly_ what Flynn had been thinking. “You thought I was a stripper.”

“I—well—the tips, and some of the things you’ve said….” He could feel his own face heating up.

Yuri laughed. “You idiot. If all these people are pulling two-dollar bills to tip the dancers with, what do you think they’re using to tip me?”

Why hadn’t he thought of that before? The disdainful gaze of the coffee shop girl returned to him, and he stared at his hands, clenched in fists on top of the bar. The bunny stamp was vivid against his skin, and Flynn’s gaze shot up to meet Yuri’s.

“Wait. You can’t be tending bar! You’re—!”

Before he could finish, Yuri clapped a hand over his mouth. His good humor had fled.

“ _That_ is the other reason I didn’t want you showing up here. Be a good little Boy Scout and run on home.”

Grabbing him by the wrist, Flynn pulled his hand down. “Sorry, I…. How did you get the job in the first place?” He had to have a fake ID, or something.

“This really isn’t the time.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.”

Head spinning, he sank back down onto the barstool. Yuri wasn’t a stripper. That was…. That made things less complicated. He was, however, breaking the law by working as a bartender before turning twenty-one. That was a different sort of complicated, but a sort that Flynn could put off dealing with until another day.

Wondering exactly how angry Yuri was going to be with him and just how long he was going to wind up paying for his curiosity, he glanced up to be met with a considering stare. Yuri turned away first.

“Turn off the puppy dog eyes. I’ll forgive you if you keep your mouth shut.”

“How about these terms: I’ll forgive you for that sucker punch the other day if you forgive this.”

“All right. Fine. Now go home. I don’t need you hanging around here bringing up the tone of the place.”

“What time are you off?”

“Huh?”

“Well, it doesn’t matter so much if I come pick you up now, right? Since I found out, anyway.”

Yuri regarded him for several long seconds before shrugging. “We close at three. I should be out by three-thirty.”

He couldn’t help smiling. “All right. I’ll see you then.”

\---------------

Just as he’d promised, Flynn got himself up from the nap he’d taken after returning home and ventured back out into the cold, predawn darkness to catch the bus that would take him to Yuri. He waited outside the strip club, shivering and watching the last customers file out onto the street and disperse. A short time later, Yuri appeared, backpack over one shoulder as he stepped out into the night wearing worn out jeans and a black hoodie. They walked quietly together back to the bus stop, and Flynn knew that all was forgiven by the way Yuri’s fingers were wrapped around his own in his pocket. They sat in the very back, snug against each other, and the speedy beating of Flynn’s heart cleared the last traces of drowsiness from his body.

He walked Yuri all the way up to his door and kissed him goodnight, thinking he must be tired after a full day of classes and work. He was surprised then, though not at all displeased, when Yuri refused to let him go, kissing him with a great deal more passion than he’d ever summoned up during his sleepy morning displays of affection.

“You don’t think I’m going to let you go home, do you?” Yuri asked when he pulled back. “All alone, in the dark.” He kissed Flynn again, soundly, and his tone was wholly self-satisfied when he spoke up again. “Way too dangerous.”

“Much too dangerous,” Flynn agreed. He felt a little lightheaded and probably would have agreed to just about anything at that point. As he followed Yuri into the apartment, one thought surfaced in his mind.

“You didn’t happen to bring those bunny ears home by any chance, did you?”

  
  



End file.
